


Celestial Chemistry

by alexrawrmonster



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Addicted!Sam, Anael mention, Angst, Canon Compliant, Canon Universe, Fluff, Hallucifer, Hurt/Comfort, Little Castiel stories, Lucifer - Freeform, M/M, Max and Alicia Banes, Sabriel Fluff, Sabriel angst, Sick Castiel mention, brotherly moments, fic facers auction, lots of swearing, otherwise pg 13, platonic sastiel, swearing is the reason for the teen rating, the MCD is not graphic, trials!sam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-16
Updated: 2019-01-15
Packaged: 2019-10-10 22:27:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17434667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alexrawrmonster/pseuds/alexrawrmonster
Summary: When they met, it was instant attraction, when he died, that was the end. Or was it...?





	1. In The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> This was created for the Fic Facers 2018 Auction, thank you for bidding on me, I hope this is everything you hoped for and more!!
> 
> As the requestee knows, I do not personally ship Sabriel, that said I think I have something here that you will all love very much. I'm immensely proud of this piece. 
> 
> Enjoy!!

“So which one are you? Grumpy, Sneezy or Douchey?” Sam hissed, or sexy… his brain piqued, it was the unwanted junk mail thoughts - but it wasn’t wrong. He wouldn’t say that one out loud.  
“Gabriel, okay? They call me Gabriel.” He said, the abandoned warehouse breezy at best chilling the human boys. Sam watched Gabriel, Gabriel watched Sam.

“The archangel?” Sam hissed,  
“Guilty” he said with a chipper smile,

“Okay Gabriel, how does an archangel become a trickster?” Dean asked, obviously annoyed.

“My own private witness protection, I skipped outta heaven, had a face transplant, carved out my own little corner of the world till, you two screwed it all up. So, boys, now what? Stare at each other for the rest of eternity?” he sarcastically remarked, or me he hoped, continuing his staring contest with little Sammy.

“Well first of all you’re gonna bring Cas back from wherever you stashed him” Dean yelled, Sam would’ve rolled his eyes at his brother’s hopelessness but he loved Cas too, and also wanted him back and safe. 

“Oh, am I?” Gabriel snarked back,   
“Yeah. Or we’re going to dunk you in some holy oil and deep fry ourselves an archangel.” Gabriel sighed, snapping his fingers Castiel returned, panting lightly. He would never hurt the kiddo,he just temporarily displaced him. Plus it was fun to watch Dean squirm, not that he didn’t want to see Sam squirming in an entirely unrelated setting. 

“Cas you okay?” Dean asked worriedly,

“I’m fine.” Cas panted out, “hello Gabriel,”

“Hey bro, how’s the search for daddy going? Let me guess, awful.”

“Okay we’re outta here, come on Sam.” Dean was done.  
“Uh? Okay? Guys? So, so what, huh you’re just gonna, you’re gonna leave me here forever?” Gabe yelled out as the boys were walking away.  
“No, we’re not, because we don’t screw with people the way you do. And for the record, this isn’t about some prize fight between your brothers or some destiny that can’t be stopped this is about you being too afraid to stand up to your family.” Dean pulled the fire alarm, freeing the angel. “Don’t say I never did anything for you.” he called back over the ringing alarm and the sound of spraying water filling the room. 

“Dean,” Sam said quietly, “I know he’s annoying, but maybe we shouldn’t get on his bad side.”

“Shut up Sammy, you just think he’s hot.” Sam blushed, these were lines, very important lines that need not be crossed, the two got into the Impala, and no further words were spoken. 


	2. A Rush of Blood (In All the Wrong Places)

“Gabriel, you are well aware we are not permitted to  _ be _ with the humans in our charge.”

“Oh but Cassie, when did I  _ ever _ follow the rules?”

“Gabriel, this is forbidden, it’s against divine law.”  
“Like you don’t wanna fuck long tan and freckled? You don’t want to taste those luscious cowboy lips? You don’t want those green eyes tracing every inch of Jimmy Novak?” Castiel blushed furiously,

“You shut your mouth.” 

“Only around his-”

“Gabriel!”

  
  


***

 

“And then will come famine, riding on a black steed, he will ride into the land of plenty, and great will be the horseman’s hunger for he is hunger.” – Book of Revelations

  
           Long brown hair, lackluster and tangled, damp, pasted to his sweaty forehead. Fever was a symptom of withdrawal after all. His hands were shaking - metal handcuffs bit into the pallid skin with each jerky tremor, control not completely lost, but a losing battle no less. Though full of pounding, searing pokers, his head was simultaneously filled with visions, dreams of black smoke running down his esophagus. All he wished was to drain them, was that so wrong, really? Yes, ultimately, yes, wrong, but he couldn’t focus on all of that right now. All he could focus on was the pounding sensation reverberating in his skull, as if all of hell was running through the desperate synapses, begging to be let into his soul. 

The man rubbed his nose on his shoulder, trying to stifle the running any way he could. The constant sniffling of withdrawal was forcing his headache to do the mental mamba, and unfortunately he couldn’t stop the dance, not even with his dizzying, distracted, blood filled daydreams. His skin crawled, begging for blood, begging to taste the power, just a taste, just a little taste, all he needed was a sip, that’s all, and he’d be okay. He would be okay, with just a sip, he wouldn’t, he wouldn’t go off the deep end with just a taste... The begging was becoming a constant, a new neural pathway was forming in his brain. No matter how he tried, all he could think of was thick, syrupy, delicious blood, and man he _needed_ it. It had started like an itch, but now it was more desperate, an itch that couldn’t be scratched like a mental case of the chicken pox that just wouldn’t calm with calamine. Itching mental need was forcing Sam into a desperate stupor, a blood junkie in need of a fix. Pathetic.   
            Sam was accustomed to not getting what he wanted. Instead of delicious, nutritious demon blood all he could see was his own, boring, powerless human blood escaping his arms as the handcuffs cut deep ravines into the skin wrapping his dainty wrists. Shaking them back and forth for the last - well he wasn’t sure how long but _too long_ \- caused them to begin to bleed, the sight was frustrating at best and ultimately unhelpful. His blood, worthless blood, not what he needed, not what he desperately craved. At least the pain was mildly distracting. The sound of wings and a flash of light woke Sam from his stupor, no longer alone in the small, dingy bathroom, momentarily distracting the hopeless hunter.  
           “Awe Samsquatch, what do we have here?” the angel asked gently, kneeling down and sitting beside the pallid man, whose desperate tremors only seemed to grow worse with the angel’s appearance.  
          “G-Gabriel?” Sam stuttered, and to his own horror salivated, “What, what are you doing here?” he licked his lips, it wasn’t demon blood, it wasn’t the same, but could angel blood really be that - no, yes, Sam, it _could_ be that bad, stop it he scolded himself profusely.. Sam dropped his head, letting it sway by his chest, frustrated that he couldn’t even control his own _thoughts_ well at this point.  
“I’m here for you, silly.” Gabe said, wrapping his hand around Sam’s balled fist, healing the angry wrings of blood and flesh that were wrapping his delicate wrists, he then moved up and placed his hand on Sam’s forehead as Sam looked back up at him, “take that fever down a peg”  Gabe mumbled quietly - babbling in times of struggle was Gabriel's specialty - Sam hadn’t known the angel long but he did know this much already. 

“Much better, I may not be of your preferred bloodline, but this should at least help make it more bearable. Unfortunately I can’t just fix it.” He said apologetically, sitting beside Sam, who gave a weak smile,

“Gabe, I, I need it, I need it  _ so bad _ .” Sam choked out, laying his forehead on Gabriel's shoulder “I don’t know what to do, I  _ need  _ it.” his voice cracked open, a desolate tone hiding beneath, he felt like he was going to start coughing up his own blood, his throat was boiling, crying out in desperation to feed. 

“I know Samsquatch, I know. Even my archangel grace can't do much besides help your withdrawal symptoms a little, the Horsedouches out big-bad us angels, all of us, even ones as fearsome as me.” he paused to give Sam a weak half smile, “the only one that beats ‘em is daddy dearest and well he’s not coming to the phone right now.” he said with a sad little laugh, stroking Sam's hair gently, changing the subject to something less depressing, “ever hear of dry shampoo?” He joked lightly, pushing Sam's sweaty hair out of his eyes, Sam gave a small thankful smile before he let it drop back into a grimace, looking away again. He felt absolutely destroyed. Sensing the tension Gabe spoke again, “You know, you look sexy with your hair pushed back.” Gabe said, watching Sam, who turned back and scoffed, blushing a little under the now reduced fever. Gabriel seemed pleased. 

“Thanks. Just don’t start trying to make ‘Fetch’ happen.” He said quietly, thankful for the distraction from the thirst that was wracking his wiry frame, making his hands shake, his throat burn, his pupils dilate. His body was betraying him. Gabriel frowned, a stark difference from his previous i’m-in-love-with-you-and-i’m-sorry-you’re-miserable facial portfolio.

“Dinner is coming Sam,” he said darkly, Sam looked at him, at first confused, and then with full understanding and clarity, he nodded - attempting not to appear as excited as he was. Gabriel placed his hand on Sam’s face, laying his fingers on Sam's cheek, running his thumb over his hollow cheek, skimming the tip of his thumb against the cheekbone, “you gotta be strong, okay?” 

“I'll try.” Sam whimpered “I need it so bad…” his voice rasped, desperation evident - the idea of demons in proximity had him salivating badly, he swallowed back the excess liquid and tried not to think about it too much. The more he thought about it the more he craved it. 

“I have to go, I'm in hiding they can't see me, I-I can’t be found.” Gabriel stammered, a small apologetic smile on his face “good luck Sam, I’m betting on you. Always have.” Gabriel said, planting a quick kiss on his sweaty cheek before flying away. Sam sighed simultaneously in relief and concern as demons entered the threshold, throwing open the bathroom door.

 

***

“Thought I told you to be strong.” Gabe said, a sad smile gracing his lips as Sam emerged from the hotel, blood covering his mouth, his shirt, his fingers, mucking up his hair. Sam collapsed into Gabriel's open arms, a quiet sob escaping his body, 

“I’m sorry.” he choked out behind the falling tears, tears of guilt and tears of thanks for the blood he finally was able to consume, “help me save them, help me save our brothers, help me fix this.” He whimpered, the better the blood made him feel the stronger the guilt overcoming him became.

“You got it Sam.” He said, and in an instant the two were outside the building where famine and his goons were hiding with Dean ‘dead inside’ Winchester and Castiel ‘burger master’ honorary Winchester.

“How do I repay you, Gabriel?” Sam asked, his voice softening on the final word as he tasted each syllable of the name, Sam reached forward, hugging the smaller man, who was staring up at him, a fierceness possessing his pretty features, waiting to answer.

“Win, Sammy.” He said, quickly kissing Sam’s bloody lips, the angel’s grace cleaned his bloody body, quickly stripping his person of all the remaining blood, and with that Gabriel flew away once again. As Gabriel disappeared Sam began his descent on the building, and man was Famine about to pay, not only was Sam hopped up on demon blood, he was charmed by the lips of an angel. 

  
  


***

 

“Please, I ca… I need some help, please _ tshi _ -” a desperate plea ascended to the Heavens, for once not falling on deaf, unsympathetic ears. 

 

***

The fluttering of wings announced his arrival at the torture basement of one adoptive parent and resident old coot, Bobby Singer,

“You're not here. None of this is real.” Sam screamed, fighting against the ties that bound him to the bed,

“I am though Sammy, Dean-o prayed for help, and help has arrived. No one else wanted to take the call, lucky me, lucky you.” He said, his usual bravado thinning at the sight of Sam, whose body was glistening with sweat, there was an immense pile of bloody bile on the floor to the side of the bed, his eyes were sunken in and his entire being took on a greenish hue that Oscar the Grouch would be proud of. Sam looked  _ bad _ and Gabriel was hopefully here to help, at least a little bit. 

Gabriel walked over to him, gently running his grace through Sam's battered body, “100% bonafied archangel grace, it's not perfect, but it's a hell of a sedative.” Gabe said, putting the young Winchester quickly to sleep, “Maybe I can't stop the withdrawal, those Horsemen are tricky buggers, but I sure as hell can help you through it.” He muttered. Gabe paused, running his hands gently up and down over Sam's torso, hovering just a few inches above Sam’s fevered body as he took care to heal what he could. The whole thing was tricky, addiction was one thing, but this still had Famine’s stink all over it,  wasn’t  _ just addiction _ and so this was unfortunately all Gabriel had the power to do. Focusing in on healing Sam up as much as possible, Gabriel began to speak gently to Sam’s sleeping body,  

“You know Sam, I didn't have to bring Dean back for you before, but, it broke you, it… it broke you so completely, you became this, this machine, this broken hunting machine, all of the goodness, the kindness, the, the willingness to help, it was all gone. You only had one thing on the brain, homicide, and as proud as Wednesday Addams would be it, well it hurt to watch.” Gabriel paused, a seriousness in his usually jovial demeanor taking root, “I guess what I'm saying is your humanity is, well it's special. Name brand not store brand, and it's, it's just so you, and man do I wish I didn't have to put you through that, but, but Sammy, I'm so worried about you. Your codependency with Dean, it’s, it's just too much, and maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but one day it's going to be the death of you, you putting yourself on the line for him, or the metaphorical death of you when your humanity gets lost in all the hullabaloo again, and Sammy I don't want that for you.” His hands continued running back and forth, charging Sam’s body with grace, keeping him sedated, keeping the terrors at bay. 

Gabriel leaned across the sleeping Sam, leaning his head on his own outstretched arm, “you know, as far as humans go, you're definitely in my top five. If I had your number you'd be in my fave five contacts, but.. I don't…” he trailed off. “You're number five. Number one is Jean-Jacques Rousseau, that man was EVERYTHING, him and Denis Diderot - now THAT was an unforgettable threesome lemme tell ya, 1743 was a great year” He said, wistfully gazing at the ceiling. “I couldn't fly for weeks, and that was from the BDSM alone, I could go ON about the things that man can do with a stocking and a lute” Gabriel shivered, eliciting a tiny noise of pleasure “how do you feel about autoerotic asphyxiation Sammy?” He paused, “maybe that's a discussion for another time.” He smiled gently, “joking, or, well, mostly joking aside - I am worried about you.” He said, running his left hand through Sam's damp hair, using his right to grab and stroke Sam's hand gently. “But you can fight this, I know you can.” Sam groaned in his sleep, rolling to one side. Keeping him asleep was proving difficult, but at least he was helping, if only marginally. Gabe sat silently for a while, just continually charging Sam’s battered body with grace.

“I ever tell you, I’m proud of you boys? You, and your brother? I am. For humans, you’re some of the better ones, and that’s saying something coming from me - I’ve been around for most of you little buggers.” Gabriel took out a lozenge and dropped it in his mouth. “Want one?” he asked with a sarcastic laugh, “that’s what I thought” he responded to Sam’s continued silence. Gabe kept working his hands gently over Sam, making sure to keep him carefully sedated as the demon blood tried to boil his body from the inside out. “You know, us angels, we don’t really need food, and so because of that our taste buds are, well lacking, it takes an entire liquor store to get us drunk - sugar though, that stuff is just as potent to us as it is to you humans, that’s why I keep it on hand so much. It’s like if you could only see the color blue, you would surround yourself in it. Dunno why I’m telling you that, not like they sell sugar flavored condoms… yet.” he paused, “You know Sammy, I think I found your next business venture,” Gabe laughed, “I know, I know, you wanted to be a lawyer not a businessman. You’ll have to tell me the story behind that someday” pressing his lips together, swishing them side to side, he was stuck in ‘worried and babbling’ mode, and so he continued letting the the anxiety babble stream out. At least Sam wouldn’t remember. Gabe silenced for a while, piping up again when the next thought drifted through his head,

“You know, as much as I love pornstars, I’d give them up, if you asked me to. I mean, not forever of course, you’re mortal, I’m a cosmic entity with semi-immortality, let’s be real here. But I would give them up for the duration of your existence,” he smiled with the softness of a warm cup of dandelion tea on a rainy afternoon. “As long as you were with me, I would be happy. I could be fine living sixty, seventy, eighty years, just me and you. Sitting in little wooden rocking chairs, looking out at the ocean. Between crashes of the waves you’d serenade me with mushy poetry crap about how much you love me, and I’d laugh and tell you how I wouldn’t have chosen any other way to spend these years. You’d look back at me with that look, you know the one, and then Dean would barge in with Cassie and be all brooding and constipated - all sulky because he never had the balls to go after the-little-angel-that-could-stiel,” Gabriel’s mood fell a little, “not that I would ever tell you that when you were awake, I’m no better than your big bro, I’m Courage the Cowardly archangel - almost infinite cosmic power but scared shitless by a moose in flannel. _Fuck_ _me_.” he laughed, “I guess if you did that, that would solve the problem.” Gabe sighed, “oh well, Sam, just know you always have an angel watching over you - since my dumb brother Castiel is too busy oogling over your brother to notice you.” he huffed, annoyed that his brother was so blind, obviously his Sammoose was the superior Winchester.  

“I like you better than Dean-o, for the record.” He whispered, Sam began to stir, eyes fluttering  open slowly. “Looks like you might be coming out of the grace coma,” Gabriel mumbled, “guess that means it's time for me to go, I can only keep you sedated with grace for so long it doesn’t just work forever, I’m sorry. At least you got a few hours of rest. Love ya kiddo, don't give up, you’ll come out of this soon. When you do, I’ll be in Monte Carlo, there’ll be a pornstar waiting with your name on her if you can manage to find me.” He said, laying a gentle, grace filled kiss on Sam's forehead before leaving the room. Sam stirred again, as agony began returning to his limp body, his screams of pain began again.

 

***

After Sam came out of his withdrawal, and Bobby and Dean let him leave the dungeon, he hopped immediately into the shower to get the dried on sweat off of his body before the acne began to sprout. His body felt unclean, but somehow he felt almost peaceful, it was the same feeling he got after Castiel healed him, but, he hadn't this time. He couldn’t in this scenario. Pulling on a fresh flannel and jeans Sam padded his way in socked feet out to the living room. Dean was sitting an archaic brown recliner chair that had definitely seen better days. Dean however was comfortable, sitting and sipping on a beer. Sam stood quietly, dripping in place for a moment, pausing to gather his words before he began to speak - he already knew he was about to sound idiotic, he didn’t need it to be any worse than necessary.

“Hey uh, Dean,” Sam paused, Dean looked up at him, lips locked around the mouth of a Flat Tire beer bottle, “I have an odd question, I, I don’t - was,” he paused to breathe and pull himself back together, starting at the red bike on the bottle, refusing to look at Dean, “was Gabriel here? When I was locked up, I mean?” Sam asked quietly, rubbing his still slightly pained head, his eyes raising to meet Dean’s gaze. 

“No?” Dean said into the brown bottleneck, removing his lips from the neck of the bottle, a look of confusion spread through his delicately freckled features, eyebrows down, mouth twitched off to the side Dean thought for a moment before continuing, “there are anti angel sigils all over that dungeon there's no way he could've got in.” Dean paused, “Why?” 

“He's an archangel, maybe the sigils can't control him.” Sam said quietly, a little embarrassed, avoiding Dean’s question, his own brows now meeting in confusion  “It’s just” he tried not to freeze, “I, I just remember something, a-about autoerotic asphyxiation...and Monte Carlo? Um, and um… and pornstars...” he trailed off sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck, he sounded like an idiot. Fuck. So much for thinking it out before asking, it did not help. Hell, it probably made it worse. 

“Gross Sammy, I don't wanna hear about your gay ass BDSM kinks. Save it for the Chief.”

“One, it's not my kink, it’s Gabriel’s,” he said uncomfortably, doing his best not to show any emotion,  “and two Gabriel is an archangel of indiscriminate gender occupying the male form of Loki the Trickster God, it's queer not gay. Get your terminology straight.” his nose turned up slightly, Sam had taken Intro to Gender and Sexuality in college - so sue him - Dean would never win against him, only one of them had attended law school after all.  

“Hah” Dean stifled a laugh, “Sammy, kiddo, there ain’t nothin’ ‘straight’ about it baby bro, but hey, whatever floats your...ya know.” Dean trailed off with an awkward sneering half smile crossing his face, a raise of his eyebrows followed -though his face clearly displayed horror there was no malicious intent hiding behind his eyes, not now anyway.  “...okay,” Dean mumbled, turning away from his still very confused brother and throwing the beer back into his mouth, taking a quick swig, smacking his lips in delight “just glad you’re back Sammy,  _ queer or not.” _


	3. Keep Calm and Carrion

The taxidermy shop was full of God’s slaughtered creatures, shot, stuffed, forced into ridiculous poses, adorned with tiny hats and fake muskets, trophy hunt, or just for funsies, Gabriel admittedly wasn’t a fan. It’s not that he _ cared  _ about those creatures, they were sad pathetic little things, really unextraordinary in every way, more so it was a waste of space. Why bother creating taxidermy? What was the point? Taxidermy just wasn’t sexy or delicious (can it furries - even  _ archangels  _ have lines) and so Gabriel wasn’t interested… at least not usually, anyway. But here he was, and to  _ help  _ people no less, a shiver of disgust rolled through his body, those damn goody two shoes Winchesters were rubbing off on him, and not in the way he wanted either. Dumb.

“Mackie’s Taxidermy and Quality Trophies- You Rough It We Stuff It, No Game Too Big or Small, how can I help you today, sir?” the store clerk asked with a smile on his thin face. He was absentmindedly toying with the random assorted office supplies littering the front counter, his russett hair bouncing slightly with each soft movement.

           “Here’s the thing,” Gabriel started, a swagger in his step as he approached the wood and glass front counter, catching the man’s eye he set his pen down. “This visit isn’t about how you can help me, it’s about how I can help you.” a bright, decently fake smile popped itself onto Gabe’s thin lips, “I see that you can’t, my friend - see - that is, and Doctor Sexy is in.” Gabriel said with a charismatic smile as he rang a little bell he’d been hiding for dramatic effect, “This here” he paused, handing the clerk a small business card.  “is the information for Emmanuel Allen, he’s the real deal.” Faint blue wings adorned the cream white cardstock, between the wings were some words and numbers in a small black font that the clerk couldn’t quite make out at the current distance. The clerk seemed lost, squinting and pulling the card closer to his eyes, the black metallic words glinting under the dim yellow Goose lights hanging above him. Gabriel began to elaborate, “ You see, well _ you _ don’t see _ I _ see, Emmanuel is a faith healer that can fix that ol’ peeper of yours.” a shit eating grin briefly crossed his face, “I have it on good authority that he’s a godsend to humanity, with an ass to die for.” Gabriel said, personally enjoying his jokes while looking the blinded man in the eye, “he can fix this for you, easy.” Gabe pointed at his unseeing eye, the man smiled, a polite skepticism molding into his facial muscles.

           “I don’t really take solicitors, and I don’t want whatever magic cure or religion or, or  **_whatever_ **  it is you’re selling.”

“Not magical you ass, angelic.” Gabriel grumbled quietly, speaking up again he began to approach it again “Emmanuel isn’t a magic cure or a religion, though Winchester may tell you otherwise on both counts…. Emmanuel just wants to help; what a freak right?, seriously, give him a call.”

“Why would a bullet manufacturer… You know what? Uh, thank you? I’ll give him a shot, I guess.” Mackie replied, a bit self conscious at this point, he took the card in his hand and moved it into the breast pocket of his dark red flannel, the little card sticking slightly over the top of the pocket, glinting in the dull lamplight.

“Do. And  _ when  _ he heals you, because he will, make sure you pass his information along, can’t be keeping good ol’ Emmanuel to ourselves now can we?”

“I, uh, sure.. Sure thing.” he responded, truly unsure how to respond, skepticism enveloping his voice as he gave a pseudo-thankful smile.,

“I’ll be going now Chuck Testa, enjoy - tell good ol’ Manny that his bro Gabe says hello.” Gabriel said with a smile. To seal the deal, Gabriel turned his back to the clerk and promptly flew away. The fluttering of wings and the clattering of the clerk’s chin falling to the floor that was softly creaking under his feet were the only sounds permeating the old building. When he collected his jaw he quickly picked up his phone, his hand flying up to his chest. 

 

***

           Northern Indiana State Hospital was a mid sized building, made of cement and brick it was uninteresting in every way, it was surrounded by nothing interesting and no one who cared. In the luxurious suite that Sam had the honor of occupying, cream sheets splayed across the thin bed. Yellow walls grew tall, starting at a dull tiled floor. A cracked metal bed frame with off-white paint bubbling over top was the view in front of the middle Winchester - he would never get used to thinking of himself that way... A pitcher of water on a cream nightstand with grey accents, and the occasional orderly passing in the hall completed the scene he was experiencing. The room would have been nice, it truly would’ve, calming and not overly sterile, almost homely, if it weren’t for the ventriloquist show happening in the corner that even his plethora of medications couldn’t touch. There was four times daily 200 milligram doses of Chlorpromazine HCL, then there was the Inderal, which was 640 milligrams split between four 160 milligram tablets, and of course who could forget the four milligrams of Lorazepam every night right before bed, Doctor Kadinsky thought they would help. Nothing helped. Nothing  _ ever  _ helped. Nothing fixed him, and nothing would remove Lucifer from Sam’s broken brain. All the pharmaceuticals managed to accomplish was make him feel like he was on the Tilt a Whirl and wasn’t ever allowed to get off - dizzy and nauseous. 

On stage Lucifer held his place on a tall, warped wooden chair, uneven and painted metallic black it looked downright eerie. Its back asymmetrically shaped, winding around Lucifer’s thin frame. There was a large spotlight hanging from the ceiling of the theatre like venue that took over the corner of the little hospital room. The light was shining across Lucifer’s pale features and hitting the antique wooden stage beneath him, illuminating the many hues hiding within the aged wood. The light practically bounced, highlighting his bright blonde hair, shining off the droplets of sweat on his already greasy forehead. In front of Lucifer an adoring crowd, screaming their cheers and praise up at him. They threw bras, flowers, money. Lucifer had his hand up an eerie wooden marionette’s ass, porcelain eyes painted a bright gold, adorned in a pinstriped suit that was painted onto a wooden bodice. The whole thing really popped, in an eerie, stay the fuck away from me sort of way. Sam couldn’t tune out the show, couldn’t tune out the screaming fans, or the bras that kept slapping him in the face and tickling his nose. Lucifer began calling Sam up to the stage - to the delight of his oh so adoring fans -  when a fluttering noise filled the room.

“Great, more hallucinations” Sam mumbled, throwing his eye sockets into his palms, as if it would help this time even though it hadn’t the other thousands he’d performed the same action. All he had was hope, anyway. Bargain bin hope from the dollar store - cheap and falling apart - but it was still there nonetheless.  

“Not this time, Sammy.” A sad voice filled the room, Sam felt his heart drop. The action of his heart falling into his toes loosened up something that was barely being held together as it was and consequently a quiet sob escaped Sam. Once that dam broke tears became a falling crescendo down his pointed features, he did his best to re-dam the break, to stop the tears. Semi-successful he sniffled and cleared his throat, at least slowing the water works for now.

“No, of course not, it never is.” he said, angry tears still flowing freely down his face, “It’s never a FUCKING hallucination, it’s all real, all of it.” Sam hid in his arms, sobbing quietly, trying to cast away the horrors that had found themselves rooting in Sam’s broken brain. Compost was good for plants after all - and Sam’s brain was rotting.

           “Right you are Sammy! Or are you?” Lucifer grinned, pausing in the middle of a joke about the duality of man and Spaghetti Tacos. He began jumping up and dancing around on stage, as if jealous that he didn’t have Sam’s undivided attention for five minutes of his pathetic hallucinatory existence. 

           “Oh, man.” Gabriel said, sitting on the bed beside Sam, whose form was shaking slightly. Gabriel placed his hand on Sam’s forehead gently, feeling around with his grace, “I can’t fix this kiddo.” He whispered, “but” he mused to himself, “you’re hallucinating, right?”

           “Just make it stop.” Sam cringed, “make it _all_ _fucking stop._ ” he sobbed, his breath catching on the silence and breaking in half as he continued to haphazardly fight the inevitable collapse.

           “I can’t do that Sam, but I can join you.” He said quietly, grabbing Sam’s hand, and as he did the stage filled his line of sight, halLucifer winked and waved at him,

           “Hiya bro.” Lucifer said with a grin, dropping his head onto Sam’s shaking shoulder,

           “You know he’s not real.” Gabriel said seriously, Sam nodded,

           “I-I know.” He said,

           “And I  _ am _ . You know that I am, don’t you?”

           “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I can’t” he hissed, coughing out another choked sob,

           “It’s okay Sam. I’m sorry Cassie did this to you.” He said, letting go of Sam’s hand, stopping the visions from continuing to enter his own mind.

           “Me too.”

           “So has he been on stage this whole time? Just doing shitty performances until you, ya know” Gabriel made an exploding noise, balling up his fist and flicking out his fingers to simulate the explosion, figuring that now was not the time for putting on a  _ real  _ show. Not that he  _ couldn’t, _ because he definitely could. 

           “No, sometimes he’s playing p-percussion instruments in random places in my room, or just screaming movie quotes in my ear - Good morning Viet- _ go fuck yourself _ – have you ever heard all of My Heart Will Go On, rendition on Otamatones, played for 12 hours? Because I have now.” He said quietly, sadly, Gabriel ran his fingers through Sam’s hair, “He does whatever he thinks will annoy me the most at any given time, which is I guess why you’re here. I know you’re dead. He knows it’ll hurt me to.. To see you, that is. Because, because, you know, I love you and...stuff...” He said sheepishly in response to the light, comforting touches, just happy that this hallucination wasn’t a malicious one. 

           “Real or not, I’m here to help.” He said fondly, “I can’t stay long, but I’ll come back.”

“You’re not real.”

“Okay Sam, I’m not real. But I’m still here to help.” Sam frowned, his face was gaunt, his normally mane like hair had considerably dulled, his body shook despite the medication to control the tremors rolling through him, his nail beds were destroyed,  and now his beautiful, gaunt, haunted face marred with unrelenting tears, “You aren’t looking so hot, kiddo - piece of candy?” he held out a candy bar gently, Sam shook his head,

“Thank you HalluciBriel, but no thank you.” He said, a slight frustration tinting his voice, he would’ve liked some chocolate, if it could save Harry from the Dementors maybe it could help now too...

“HalluciBriel? So original.” Gabriel scoffed,

“You try not sleeping as long as I have and coming up with ‘original’” he pouted, tears still rolled down his face but he wasn’t sobbing anymore, just silently crying. Gabe wasn’t sure which was worse. Sam wiped his face.

“Angels don’t sleep Sam.” Sam scowled, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be riling you up here. I apologize.”

“No, you shouldn’t.” he said indignantly. Sam pulled himself further into the small creaky bed, burying himself in the covers and laying on his side, facing away from Gabriel.

“You okay?”

“No. Obviously fucking not.” he said angrily,

“I’m sorry Sam, but even I can’t fix your noggin.”

“It’s fine ‘Gabriel’.” He deadpanned, “of course you can’t, you’re a hallucination.” Gabriel just rubbed his grace charged hand up and down Sam’s right arm, trying to at least bring a sense of calm to the hurting moose. “That feels nice.” He whispered, “I can almost relax, until HalLucifer chimes in…” he flinched at some noise being made in his head that Gabe couldn’t hear.

“Oh, Sammy.” He whispered, gently braiding Sam’s hair, “what can I do?” he whispered, finishing the lackadaisical braid, and letting it fall loosely back around Sam’s face, running his fingers through the hair gently as it fell to frame Sam’s gaunt features.

“Leave.” He whispered,

“Okay,” he said slowly,  “but I’ll be back.” and so he walked out of the room. Gabriel walked down the corridor, intent to leave taking the forefront in his brain until he noticed a girl. She was short and petite, freckled with long brown hair, a cream bandage wrapped partially round her neck, but the thing about her that he really noticed was that she was being followed around by some creepy dead ginger kid. “Maybe that’ll be good for him.” Gabriel mused, “Hey, kid.” He calls out, the girl’s eyes go wide, she points at herself, “yes you, c’mere.” She does as told. “What’s your name?”

“Marin.” She whispered,

“Hiya Marin, wanna know how to get some candy bars? Free of charge of course.” He grinned as she nodded in excitement.

 

***

Sam couldn’t rest, of course, obviously. So why the doctors kept pressing the matter he truly didn’t understand. A freak with suicidal ideation and psychotic tendencies, insomnia, a broken rib and lacerations – Sam was not a well man. Though now that you mention it, he didn’t really feel the rib and lacerations anymore... weird.

Lucifer was having fun, he had Adam, he was murdering Adam, and Sam couldn’t watch. God he couldn’t watch anymore.But he didn’t have a choice. 

“Hey Sammy,” the fluttering of wings filled the air,

“Make it stop.” he whispered to the kinder of the hallucinations in the room,

“What’s he doing now?”  
“Just make it stop.”

“I’m on it, okay?” he said, and to be fair he was working on it, in a sort of round about way, but there wasn’t much he could do now. Gabriel grabbed Sam’s hand, letting the hallucinations fill his brain,

“Oh Sammy…” he said, sighing and looking at the shaking man beside him, he looked as though he was about to collapse, but he physically couldn’t. His eyes had sunken into caverns in his skull, the once youthful luster his skin held was now covered in fine lines and stress acne, Sam looked worse every time Gabriel came, and when Gabe grabbed his hand he sure saw why.

There was Adam Winchester, Milligan, whoever the fuck you want to call him, Sam’s own baby brother, and there was a knife in his chest, and he was staring at Sam, begging him to ‘please, please, help me, you’re my big brother Sam, would Dean have let you die?” Adam was pleading and sobbing with Sam who to his credit was attempting to ignore it, but Gabe could see the guilt swirling in his hazel eyes. They left that poor kid in hell after all.

“Hey, hey Sam, look at me. You  _ know  _ this isn’t real. Michael has Adam, they’re trapped in the cage. The same cage Castiel had so much trouble getting you out of that you’re in this predicament - and Castiel cares about you, not like Dean but…. Castiel doesn’t care about Adam. Nobody went back for Adam, he got left, he can’t be here.” Clearly that was not the thing to say, as Sam cascaded into a pile of wet sobs and desperate sniffles, hiding his face in cream bed sheets.                                   

“I’m so sorry, Adam.” Sam mumbled between sobs, “I’m so, so, so, sorry.”

“Sam, hey, hey, look at me, this isn’t your fault. You and Dean-o did not know that Adam existed, the Winchester brand put a target on his back that he didn’t know was there. He had no chance.” Sam grimaced again,

“Aren’t you here to help?” he asked, crying harder at the realization that the more adept at hunting he and Dean became, the bigger the bullseye on Adam’s back became. 

“Shit, sorry.” Gabriel said, running his hands through his hair, “emotions, and...stuff… not my strong suit kiddo.” he said, pulling Sam into a hug as he sobbed quietly into Gabe’s chest.

“Help me Gabriel, please.” he begged, “please.” Adam was still screaming at Sam, the pleas for salvation had changed into damning slurs, creative quips from a poison tongue slashing in new, horrible ways at Sam’s frayed psyche. 

At around four pm was when orderlies generally began showing up to give Sam his third doses of Chlorpromazine HCL and Inderal for the day, but as the Marcus began walking in to the room to tend Sam, Gabriel shook his head, 

“He’s feelin’ a little rough right now, can you come back in a few minutes?” Marcus, though apparently confused, nodded and walked away. Sam was sobbing, and unfortunately missed the entire interaction, though who is to say if it would have helped.

“Shh, Sammy, shhh,” he tried to soothe the giant once again, 

“I d-don’t know wh-what to do, he w-won’t stop.”

“I know,” Gabe said, his muscular arms pulling Sam in tighter, 

“You smell like pine trees.” Sam whispered with a sniffle, Gabriel blushed, Sam just looked confused,

“Well, you’re, you’re trapped in here, so I picked something that would maybe remind you of freedom, a little bit, figured it could be calming.”

“Thank you.” he whispered,

“Don’t mention it, Sam.”

“You can call me Sammy.” he whispered. 

“Okay, Sammy. I have to go for a little bit, will you be okay?” Sam nodded, “alright, hey, I love you okay.” Gabe kissed Sam’s forehead, he wished he could kiss the pain away.

“I love you too.” he whispered sadly, if only this were all real. Marcus returned with pills for Sam, he took them same as ever, and Gabriel was nowhere in sight. 

***

Gabriel returned to Sam’s room, per the usual timeline the orderlies should be done with the rounds for the day. He paused at the doorway when he heard muffled speaking from inside,

“It crumbled, the pieces got crushed to dust by whatever is happening in his head right now.” Cassie, missed you buddy, Gabe thought to himself, 

“So, you’re saying there’s nothing? He’s gonna be like this until his candle blows out?” Gabriel frowned, no, that was definitely not happening, though, despite all his research he still had no idea how to fix this.

“I’m sorry. This isn’t a problem I can make disappear, you know that.” Castiel paused, “but I may be able to shift it?” Gabriel’s interest piqued,

“Shift it?”

“Get Sam back on his feet. It’s better this way, I’ll be fine.” Castiel...baby bro....  
“Cas, what are you doing?” Oh no...

“Now Sam, this may hurt, and if I can’t tell you again, I’m sorry I ever did this to you.” Gabe froze, Sam immediately started grunting and groaning in apparent agony, Gabe couldn’t see what Castiel was doing but when he heard the -

“Sam?”

“Dean!” 

“Sam!” he knew things were going to be okay,

“Cas? Cas is that you?” Sam cried, Castiel began hyperventilating in the other room, and it dawned on him what had just happened. Castiel had sacrificed himself for little ol’ Sammoose. Gabriel smiled, a watery and pained smile, first my  boyf riend, now my brother, fan-freakin’-tastic, he thought to himself as he quickly fluttered away. He had disguised his grace from Castiel but that didn’t mean that he wouldn’t recognize him if he saw him. Sam was better, and for the moment that’s what mattered. He would send Cassie some flowers.

 


	4. Ring Around the Rosie

  Three stories of lava rock bricks painted in cream rose up from the ground below. Large single pane windows were dispersed evenly across the front of the aging building. Surrounded by luscious grass the color of basil and a mottled dispersion of shaggy trees. The building was gently nestled into a cozy cropping of mountains on the way up the Elk Mountain pass in scenic Colorado. A calmness only found on mountain passes in the middle of nowhere permeated the tiny blip that called itself a town on a never ending stretch of mountain pass. A neon lined sign that read “Two Rivers Motel and Casino – No Vacancies” called attention to the inauspicious building from the main road dawdling lackadaisically through the sleepy mountain town. The location would’ve been perfectly conducive to healing and wellness, if it weren’t for the fact that the absolute prick of a scribe Metatron was here. Unfortunately for Sam, Metatron  _ was  _ here, and he was inadvertently in the way of his little Sammoose feeling any better because Sam was resonating with the douche canoe of a scribe, and from what Gabe could tell, it was absolute misery.

Even if it was just the placebo effect of the mountains and naturopathic healing, Gabriel wanted that for Sam. Sam needed it. Trials are serious business after all, did they now know what they were getting in to? They must not…if they knew what Sam had to do to complete them...what Sam had to give up... Gabriel sighed, losing himself in his thoughts once again as he found his way up the stairs, winded as he came to the room of one sickly Sammy Winchester.

           “Knock, knock.” he said as he walked into the open door frame, a little tender smile graced his face. Gabriel entered the room quietly, attempting to be considerate of the condition his visitee was in- people with fevers of a hundred and seven needed their rest after all; at least Dean had brought it down to a hundred and four with that ice bath. Not that Gabriel had been watching, full of anxiety and concern, because that would be out of character for the uncaring archangel and he simply wouldn’t do that.

The room itself was nice enough. Unopened medical supplies littered the surfaces nearest Sam’s bed - Gabriel assumed that was Dean’s doing and to Sam’s annoyance. Sam was asleep on the bed, his breathing shallow and labored as Gabe walked over and sat beside him. The rustling motion of the mattress jostled Sam, whose eyes then flickered open. The second his eyes graced the present day Sam’s body was  thrown into a formidable set of wracking coughs that shook his entire frail body. “Hiya Sammy.” Gabe said quietly,

           “Oh for fuck’s sake, I’m hallucinating  _ you  _ again? I must be  _ really  _ messed up from these damn trials.” Sam growled to himself between coughs, hiding his head under his pillow with a resounding groan. “Go  _ away  _ halluciBriel, I don’t need this right now.” frustration tinted his words alongside an admittedly endearing nasal quality that was usually a symptom of a bad head cold. Gabriel snorted,

           “Again with the bad names? And you’re not even sleep deprived this time!” he let out another laugh,  “you’re still not hallucinating me, kiddo,” he said sadly, sure he showed up at intentionally inopportune times; but, really that didn’t mean he wasn’t real, the thought alone was offensive. 

           “What do you want, ‘Gabriel’” his head remained under the pillow, as he spoke Gabriel’s name he made sure it was cradled with air quotes, Gabriel stifled a grin, unwell or not Sam was clearly still a sass to be reckoned with. Gabriel forced the glowing grin down into a little smile,

           “I’m worried about you, kiddo, that’s what. You aren’t letting Dean take care of you, that’s not the Sam Winchester I know.”

           “Yes, it actually is.” He grumbled.

           “You’re right, it is, you’re both too stubborn for your own good when it comes to letting the other see what’s going on inside, but erotically codependent otherwise. Dumb.” he said, annoyance staining his otherwise chipper tone, “that’s why I’m here.” He said, rapidly changing into a solidly cheery demeanor, “these trials are tricky business.”

           “So I’ve noticed.” Sam said dryly, coughing harshly into the pillow, his legs scrunched up, his body curling in with every contraction of his chest.

           “Sam, the trials are permanent, comprende? You don’t come back from this. This isn’t Survivor - at the end you don’t get a trophy and a million dollars, you get  _ dead. _ ”

           “Yeah”, sam replied slowly, “I caught on.”

           “Oh,  _ did you? _ I hear you telling Dean otherwise on the daily.”

“Well quit _ eavesdropping  _ then.” Sam removed the pillow from his face, revealing the gaunt and pallid skin beneath. Painted in purple his hazel eyes had sunken down into his skull, his nose raw and red, not to mention the waves of heat Gabe could feel radiating off his shivering body. “Yes, Gabriel, I  _ did  _ realize what these trials mean _. _ I’m not coming back from this, but he won’t keep going if I let that on.” Sam said angrily, “would you just hallucinate yourself the hell outta here? I’m tired of talking to your fake ass.”

           “That would require me being a hallucination to begin with.”

           “Oh right, because you’re ‘real’”.

           “Am real.”     

“Whatever.”

           “Look, I’m here to help you.” Conjuring a cool towel Gabriel started wiping off Sam’s forehead, gently removing some of the sweat from his brow bone. “I know, I know, you’re fine, but if you weren’t I’d do this and, well, I’m rusty. Gotta keep up the caretaker practice. Last time I had to do any of this it was when Castiel came down with Angel Fever back in 1347 and _ man  _ that wasn’t pretty – dad was pissed. Cassie learned how to keep his germs to himself after that...” Gabriel trailed off, shuddering lightly as his nose and lips scrunched up in disgust,

           “Gabriel,” Sam paused to cough a little, “juslemmesleeeeeep.” Sam whined, his voice was ragged and more coughing quickly ensued, Gabriel saddened with every noise coming from Sam’s congested chest and raw lungs.

           “Okay, you rest, I’ll be back okay?” He said gently, kissing Sam’s sweaty forehead and leaving the quiet motel room.

***

          Sam and Dean were home in the bunker, and things still weren’t going too well. The drive home was bad enough, Sam curled up and shivering in the passenger seat the entire way home, but even now that Dean managed to get Sam home and into bed things still weren’t looking up. Sam’s eyes were squeezed shut, his body shaking rapidly - this was in spite of the extremely high temperature Dean had brought the thermostat up to. He had essentially cranked the thing as high as it would go and it still wasn’t warm enough for Sam’s frigid body. It was so cold, so so cold. Buried in all the blankets he could track down Sam felt himself sweating and shivering. With each new bead of sweat balling on his forehead a new tremor rolled through his body, he felt so nauseous, his entire body ached, and the putrid aroma of antiquated carrion flitted its way past his raw nose causing him to gag at least once every few minutes. The nausea alone, or the aching alone, or the awful smell alone wouldn’t have been so bad but the combo, the triple threat, they just seemed to hit Sam where it hurt. He was hungry and he was exhausted and he was alone. 

Dean was off doing research in dusty volumes for the case, or for the trials, or for... something, Sam couldn’t remember anymore. His focus had begun to go with the first trial, and the further into this mess they got the worse he felt. To his credit Sam had offered to help with...whatever it was Dean was researching, but Dean saw him swaying in the doorway like seagrass in the ocean wind as he voiced his offer of assistance. Dean put him back to bed immediately after that. Sam was about to protest when he started coughing up blood onto the doorway and onto his unsuspecting brother, he didn’t fight so hard after that. He did promise to clean the blood off of Dean’s shirt and the doorway when he had the energy. He wasn’t sure when that would be. They didn’t talk about him ‘feeling better’ anymore, they only spoke in more and less energy for the day - how much did Sam have the capacity for today. 

           Shivering and alone Sam was in bed on his Galaxy S4 playing a rousing game of Nimble Thief when a fluttering of wings filled his ears and a cool breeze brushed past his fevered skin.

           “Oh for fuck’s sake.” He grumbled, “Not again.” He hid under his blankets, quickly pulling his phone under the covers to try to tune out the hallucinations any way possible. He still hadn’t told Dean about them, didn’t want to worry him any further. Dean’s fingers basically inhabited his mouth on a full time basis already with how much nail biting over Sam he got up to these days. If nail biting paid Dean could afford a mortgage, even after taxes. 

           “Hiya Sammy,” Gabriel said quietly, “I brought soup this time.” He said quietly, placing a thermos on the nightstand next to Sam’s bed.

           “Thanks.” He grumbled, still in hiding, at least this wasn’t like halLucifer, halBriel was kind, at least.

           “Sure thing Sammy.” He said with a small chuckle, pulling up a chair next to Sam, “I take it you’ve been put on house arrest by Dean-o?” Sam grumbled in annoyed assent, “good. No use killing you yet.” Sam peeked out from under the covers to glare at Gabe, “I kid, I kid. Truly. I’d miss you! As would the entire moose population I mean what would they do without their patriarch?” an annoyed whine came from under the covers,

           “I feel horrible, and you’re making moose jokes? Seriously? I take what I thought back you’re not better than HalLucifer.” a violent, wet, wracking cough  filled Sam’s lungs, blood splattered against his folded fist. He quickly wiped off the auburn particles onto a nearby tissue, a slight look of disgust finding its way onto his sunken features.

           “Only the best for my Sammy.” He smiled, rubbing the man’s back as the shallow breaths fought to fill his rattling lungs, trying to calm him.

           “I’m not your Sammy.” Sam deadpanned, “I’m sick and so I’m stuck here and can’t leave, I don’t like you, this is, this is Stockholm syndrome.” He grumbled, a half smile of relief tracking its way across his sickly features as he finally caught his breath, he cleared his throat, “But say I did like you, would you,” he paused, well, who cared what a hallucination thought about him anyway, “ would you tell me stories about the angels until I fell asleep? Hypothetically speaking of course... ” Dean used to read him to sleep, but he wasn’t about to ask Dean for any of this. He couldn’t show his cards, but a figment of his imagination - well there was no harm in telling it. 

“Well, hypothetically speaking,” he said, a joking pitch in his tone that softened down as he responded to the question “I’d love to.” Gabe said, lips twitching happily up, “So you know I am currently sharing Loki’s likeness, well one time the two of us and Kali-“

“Not, not those kinds of stories.” Sam cut him off, his lungs threatening to evacuate his chest immediately following - he had spoken too quickly and his alveoli were thoroughly displeased.

“Okay, okay.” He said with another small smile, “More baby bro stories it is.” - Sam’s brow furrowed, more? Since when did hallucinations have continuity…  “When Castiel was just a little fledgling I was often looking over him, as one of the younger archangels, angel rearing often ended up one of my duties. I was looking over him one day, handsomely of course as always, and little Cassie wanders off. Now you may be thinking ‘oh it’s not that bad, kids wander off all the time’ well you’d be VERY WRONG. Castiel had the entirety of the cosmos at his disposal, how the hell was I supposed to know where he went?” Gabriel paused for dramatic effect, “Cassie has always been a strange one, he never quite fit. No matter how many times they wiped him clean, rebooted that hard drive, no matter how much training we put him through, Castiel just never, he never fit that mold, much like yours truly. Because of that little similarity it was easier for me to sense him.” Gabe said with a light smile, “Castiel had found his way to Orion’s belt of all places, stubborn little thing refused to leave, told me It was ‘his chawge fow pwotection – undew no ciwcumstances would he weave’ with the cutest little pout you ever saw. Well, except for mine, of course” Gabe winked, Sam sighed in pseudo annoyance, rolling his bloodshot eyes - even his hallucination of Gabriel was _like this_. He hated it. He loved it. He missed real Gabriel...RIP. “Anyways I had to grab him by the wings and halo and drag him back home to heaven. I would’ve got my ass chewed by dad for losing another one, so it’s a damn good thing I found him.” He said, eyes looking off into the distance with the memory, as if he were still there in Orion’s  belt, with tiny Castiel pawing at him attempting to get him to ‘weave him awone’.

“Cas is stubborn like tha- wait, another one? Who else did you lose?” Sam asked sleepily, smacking his lips together because of the dryness that exhaustion brings in its stead.

“You’re telling me about Cassie…” Gabe paused, “Yeah I lost  Anael when she was a little tyke too… she was missing a few... hundred... years before I noticed… wasn’t uh, she didn’t make much of an impression you could say. She kinda fell behind because of it… Ended up a pencil pusher because of how far behind the other angels she was… As you can imagine she’s not my biggest fan... Not my fault they put me in charge of her.” Gabriel muttered with a shrug, by this point Sam had drifted to sleep, soft, stuffed up snores filled the room “Okay Sammy, I’ll leave you alone now” he whispered, pulling the blankets up around Sam’s shivering body and laying a quick kiss on his fevered forehead. He made sure to plug in Sam’s dying phone and set it on the nightstand, and to carefully refill Sam’s half drank glass of water from the pitcher on the table before flying away for the last time.

“Hey Sammy, I brought you a little something.” Dean said, bringing in another bowl of John Winchester’s famous Cure All Kitchen Sink Stew, where the secret ingredient is definitely love, or maybe cayenne pepper. His eyes were dark with concern but his tone light, always putting on a face for his brother, even now.

“Hi Dean.” He grumbled, holding his arm in front of his mouth attempting not to cough more blood onto his older brother. Normally someone who would give bigfoot a run for his money, the trials made Sam look so sickly, so small, it was like they were kids again. Baby Sammy had the flu and Dean had to take care of it while dad was off hunting. This time it was a little different, pedialyte and chicken soup weren’t fixing this.

“Where’d the thermos come from?” Dean asked quietly, confusion spiking his features as he noticed a blue metal hydro flask he hadn’t seen before sitting by Sam’s full water glass,

“Uh, I don’t-“ his eyes grew incrementally wider, as if a sudden realization was running through him and his fevered brain couldn’t quite keep up, 

“Nevermind.” Dean said, setting the bowl down,

“Dean, I, I keep hallucinating.” Sam said quietly, looking down in shame, admitting he couldn’t keep it together was sheer agony searing his soul,

“Lucifer?”

“No-God no. Nevermind, it’s nothing.” Sam said, wiping off his nose - even the soft fabric hurt the flaking, burnt excuse for skin.

“Sam.” Dean stared at him, his brow furrowed in concern and annoyance, 

“I keep seeing, uh,” he paused, biting at his lip - still bloody from the last round of coughs, “it’s Gabriel.” He said sheepishly,

“Gabriel, as in the archangel?”

“Yeah.” Sam said quietly, still refusing to look his brother in the eye, he pulled his arm up and wiped the blood from the last desperate fit off his mouth,

“You wanna talk about it?”

“Not really.” Sam seemed to slump in defeat, Dean sat down on the bed gently, placing his hand on his brother’s damp shoulder.

“Okay, well I’ll talk, I guess. When, when I came back from, from Purgatory, after you ditched me for that bitch… oh and the dog too I guess” he paused to jokingly glare at Sam, whose weary eyes just said get on with it - man were they always that bloodshot - Dean pulled himself out of his concerned thoughts and began talking again, “I saw Castiel. Everywhere. In mirrors, on the side of the road, in grocery stores, he even haunted my wet dreams - cockblock from beyond the grave. Dick…he never uh, he never did any more than look at me, with that uh, that intense stare of his-”

“You had… eye sex...from beyond the grave…” Sam coughed out.

“ _ Shut it _ Sammy.  _ Anyways _ it, well it was guilt. Guilt eating at me, it’s why I saw him, he wasn’t really there, I knew that. And while I’m  _ fuming pissed _ at the guy right now, I  _ really _ am, at the time, I just missed him. I just wanted him to be home, with us, with, with me. I have to imagine that you could be uh, could be feeling some of that... Kind... of feeling...” He said sheepishly, trailing off.

“You think I’m pining?” Sam deadpanned with a sniffle and a quiet cough,

“Hey! I-I didn’t say anything like that. I said I, I missed my best friend.” he backtracked, 

“Right... well…” he paused to cough up more bloody phlegm,  “I’m” more coughing, “not gonna” - “push you to admit your feelings right now it’s just not the time, but I see what you’re getting at. And I don’t know. Maybe you’re right, maybe I miss him. Because… Because there’s no way he’s...” Sam trailed off quietly, he had been their when Gabriel died, they had escorted Kali from the room and, they heard it, they heard his screams, they saw the lights emanating from the building, Gabe was gone. He knew that. He scanned the room and found his way back to the opportunity to change the subject that was sitting on his nightstand, “What’s in that thermos can you look?”

“Looks like tomato and rice soup?” Dean said with a shrug,

“Huh. Maybe Cas left it while I was out. He made you soup before, right?” Dean ignored the last comment,

“I’m gonna let you get some rest Sammy, I’ll come get you if I find anything important okay?” Dean said, pulling the blankets back up around his little brother, 

“Okay Dean.” He said quietly, Dean turned the light off to Sam’s room and Sam closed his eyes, Dean took his exit, shutting the door behind him.

 


	5. Going Out with a Bang

Sam and Dean set their bags down, they had just arrived home from Dean’s brief foray into live action tentacle porn, rode hard and put away wet they were admittedly tired, but they got the seal of solomon, and for that reason everything they had just been put through was worth it.  They boys were tired, but never off guard. Hearing shuffling in the next room guns were immediately drawn, raised to eye level, safety off, finger caressing the trigger, poised to shoot when Ketch walked into sight, hands raised,

“Wait, I come in peace?” Ketch cried out,

“Yeah, right.” Sam said curtly, his muzzle never wavering from where it was pointed - at Ketch’s head, he would hit right between the eyes.

“And,” he paused, “I brought you a gift!” he said, pulling a homeless, disheveled looking man in dirty grey clothes into sight, on further inspection the man was marred with bloody wounds, his mouth sewn shut with coarse twine, his overall posture hunched in fear. 

“Wait a second, is that,” Sam’s voice quieted, he swallowed, his heart ached just looking at him.

“...that Gabriel?” Dean asked, both boys in complete shock,

“No, no, that’s impossible, he, he’s dead, we, we saw him die.” Sam stuttered, and he had, they had seen him killed by Lucifer as they stole away with Kali, Gabriel sacrificed himself a long time ago for them all, they had the Casa Erotica tape to prove it - a tape that Sam would never admit to having kept.

“Or did you.” Ketch deadpanned, 

“What’d you do to him?” Dean asked quietly,

“Not me, Asmodeus, the prince was holding him prisoner until I liberated the poor man, and I understand you may need an archangel, for a spell perhaps? Well, what luck.” Ketch said, a nervous happiness settling as his demeanor,

“We need his grace.” Sam said quietly, looking the angel over once again, at the phrase Gabriel started screaming from behind his bindings, the muffled sound grating against Sam. It hurt to see this, but a voyeur in the moment his gaze lingered on. 

“No, no, no, no, calm down, calm down… Nervy…”  Ketch soothed frustratedly, quieting Gabriel, Sam grimaced at the abrasive tone. 

“Here, take that, and um, the archangel blade.” Ketch said, dropping a small vial of grace and the blade gingerly on the warm illuminated mapping table.

“But why would you - what’s the catch, what do you want?” Sam said, annoyed that he wasn’t just doing this to help poor Gabriel out, because it was Ketch, and of course Ketch wanted something in return. 

“Protection, from Asmodeus.” Ketch said quietly,

“The one you’re working for?”  Dean asked in annoyance,   
“ _Was_ , working for, but when he finds out I stole his prize milk cow well I imagine that he’ll hunt me to the ends of the Earth, so, this is the only safe place I know.” he said sheepishly, hoping the implied compliments would help the situation. 

“What, do you just think you’re gonna move in?” Sam was annoyed, Ketch should just give him Gabriel and leave him alone but clearly that wasn’t in the cards. 

“Dibs on the top bunk?” Ketch said lightly, still clearly nervous. 

“No” Sam said, he’d find another way to bring Gabe home

“Deal” Dean said at the same time,

“What?” Sam said, his heart fluttering at the thought of keeping Gabriel but sinking at the prospect of Ketch as a roommate. He better do his own fucking dishes.

“I don’t know what the the hell’s going on here, but if this helps us get mom back, helps us get Jack back, then, sure, whatever you want.” Dean said, looking to Sam then back to Ketch, “Come on Ketch, I’ll show you where your new room is, Sammy, go get Gabe cleaned up.” Dean said knowingly, knowing that which only big brothers have the privilege to know, taking Ketch into the other wing, leaving Sam alone with Gabriel.

“Hey.” Sam said quietly, tears sluicing in his scrunched eyelids, threatening to overflow as he examined the botched, infected stitch work on Gabriel’s lips, “let’s get you cleaned up, okay?” Gabriel was huddled in on himself, Sam pulled him into the library, sitting him at a table he went to grab a scalpel and a washcloth, wetting it with warm water and cleaning it up with rubbing alcohol. He walked over to Gabe, taking a seat across from him. “This might hurt, I’m going to be as gentle as I can.” he whispered, he started on the left, cutting the twine and gently tugging it, pulling the first binding from his lips. “I can’t believe you’re alive,” he whispered, gently tapping the washcloth and the crusted bloody holes he just pulled the twine from. Gabriel winced with every touch. “Gabriel, man, what happened to you.” Sam asked quietly,

“Alright, let’s do this.” Dean said, walking into the room, packed to leave,

“Shouldn’t we wait?” Sam asked, glancing back at Gabriel who was shaking gently in place.

“Wait? Why? We got everything we need, everything else is just burning daylight, let’s open this door.”

“Alright, I’ll gather my gear.” Sam said a little sadly, 

“Uh, hold on, I’m heading in alone.” Dean said,

“What?”

“Look, we got a busted up archangel here, and who the hell knows what else, kay? Somebody’s gotta stay here just in case.” an unspoken ‘it should be you’ shared between the two boys, 

“And I’m coming with you.” Ketch said, joining the boys in the room, “as I said, Asmodeus will be hunting me to the ends of the Earth, so it’s better if I’m not on this Earth.”  
“It’s not much better over there, you know it’s a warzone right?”  
“Won’t be my first, shant be my last, hm?” 

“Fine.”  
“Fine? So you want Ketch to go and not me?” Though reasonably excited to stay home, that still hurt.

“I don’t care if he dies, hell i’m kinda rooting for it.” Ketch frowned,

“Still, you can’t-”

“No, I have to. It takes something that’s been over there before to open up the right door, so that’s either you or me, so i’m gonna go, and if something happens to me, if, if time runs out I need you, you two come and save me, and save mom and whoever else.”

“It’s safer if we go together.”

“Oh there’s no such thing as safer over there, you know that, I know you don’t like this. I don’t expect you to, but this is the way it’s gonna be.” The spell was prepared, Dean and Ketch left, leaving Sam and Gabriel alone in the library.

“I still want to know what happened,” Sam said quietly, looking at his feet, he looked back up, the angel looked terrible, “You know,” he said quietly, pulling up the scalpel to break another strand, “I used to-oh my god.” “Holy… Holy Chuck... I.... I wasn’t hallucinating you… was I?” Sam said, eyes widened in shock, he rubbed at his jaw gently, “You were always there for me, and then Asmodeus got you.” he dabbed at Gabriel’s lips again as they had started to bleed, “you, you, were always…. Gabe I’m so sorry… all that time you were with Asmodeus, wait, did Cas  _ really  _ start the… whatever - we should’ve known. If, If Dean and I knew, we would’ve, we would’ve tried one of our famous long shots, we would’ve gotten you out.” he said sadly, moving to the next stitch. He cleaned up Gabriel’s mouth, that’s all the broken man would allow/ Sam gently dragged him to bed, finding an uninhabited bedroom and getting him set up in it. Gabriel took to the corner, balled in on himself,

“I don’t have angel grace, I can’t magic you better, but I promise to take care of you Gabe, get some rest.” Sam said quietly, leaving him, shutting the door behind him. 

 

***

“It’s closing, we’re running out of time come on.” the boys called out to the group of resistance rebels that had managed to survive thus far. As the group of twenty five made their way off the bus, out of the buggie, descending on the rift home. Sam and Dean pushed the group forward, sending Ketch, Cas, Jack, Mary, and the multitude of others ahead, sending them home as the boys held back with Gabriel, and Lucifer - who Sam grabbed to keep from leaving. The group was almost through the rift, falling through in droves when Michael came careening onto the scene, killing a few of the hunters in the process.

“Gentlemen” Michael greeted as Lucifer stepped forward, “Lu, you don’t really wanna try this again do you?”  
“Um… yeah.” Lucifer says, striking at Michael, Michael strikes back quickly, outgunned Lucifer fell to the ground as Gabriel stepped forward, Sam bit his lip nervously, 

“Ah, can it be, Gabriel?” Michael asked

“Go, I can buy some time.” He said, looking at Dean, refusing to look Sam in the eye,

“Gabriel, don’t” Sam’s voice cracked,

“All I did on Earth was run, I’m not running anymore.” the boys didn’t move, “GO!” he yelled out at them, Dean and Sam backed away, headed for the rift as Gabriel and Michael began throwing punches, each sounding like a wave of thunder ricocheting through the forest, Gabriel was doing well, that was until the angel blade dropped out of Michael’s sleeve. Michael lunged forward, stabbing Gabriel in the stomach, silver metal piercing delicate human skin.

“Gabe, no!” Dean cried out as Gabriel collapsed into Michael’s arms,

“Go, go!” Sam yelled to Dean, and Dean flew threw the rift, leaving Sam, Gabriel who was sinking to the ground, and Lucifer. Lucifer stood and began walking towards the rift when Sam pushed him back, an unusual coldness in his demeanor,

“Sam, what are you doing, I’m hurt?” Lucifer asked quietly, so am I he thought.

“How did you think this was gonna end?” Sam hissed, throwing Lucifer back to the ground, Sam looked at Gabriel, beautiful, caring green eyes wide and unseeing. Sam sighed sadly, and walked through the portal. He was the last one.

Back home Sam locked himself away in his room, twenty five people give or take had made it back from apocalypse world, but one of the five that had gone with them hadn’t made it. Sam rubbed his face gently, trying to put a stop to the tears that were threatening to escape.

“Wanna talk about it?” Dean asked gently as he walked past Sam’s room and saw the broken expression on his face,

“No.” he whispered, his voice cracked on the word. Dean gave a sympathetic smile and walked away. Sam’s face fell to his hands,  _ if I had just believed him once, if I had only listened when he said he was real, when he left the soup, when he healed my ribs, he was there for me, and I didn’t, I didn’t return the favor. And he was captured, and he was tortured, and I could’ve made a difference.  _ Now the tears were flowing, he couldn’t stem the flow of thoughts like blood from a wound, he needed fire to cauterize it, but all he had was pain.

“Sam,” Cas said gently, knocking on the open doorway before entering the room, “I, I was once told by Gabriel, in a number of words, that he would willingly break divine law to be with you.” Cas said, sitting on the bed gently beside him, “and now, this is Gabriel we’re speaking of, he’s always been a bit of a rule breaker, but truly, he truly cared for you. I’m, I’m sorry for your loss.” he said, gently rubbing Sam’s knee, a comforting gesture he had picked up from Dean,

“Thanks Cas,” Sam choked out, “I’m sorry you lost your brother… again.”

“Me too. He was a brave man, in the end. He died for what he truly cared about.” Cas said gently, knowingly. Another choked sob flew out of Sam’s throat, Cas smiled sadly, moving his hand to gently rub his back. Sam looked at his lap, refusing to look at Cas. Dean walked past the doorway, looking in on Sam and Cas, he smiled sadly and nodded to Cas, who nodded back. A gesture of thanks. 

“I know what you meant to him, it was a great deal Sam, do not forget that.”

“I won’t Cas, I won’t. He sacrificed himself, for us, for me. I can never repay that.”

“He would never have asked you to.”

“I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the canon end to the fic. If you stop here, thank you for your time.
> 
> There is a canon breaking ending to follow if you do so choose to partake (I'd recommend it ;) )


	6. The Bane of My Existence

The faint glow of the mapping table illuminated the otherwise dimly lit bunker room, the flat surface functioning once again as a dining table. Surrounding it many familiar faces, Sam and Dean at either ‘head’ of the table, Cas and Jack beside them, Mary had stopped in for a visit, as had Max and Alicia Banes, much to Sam and Dean’s surprise. They didn’t comment. They wanted to say something, but this wasn’t the time. Dean had made a fresh pot of  delicious shrimp linguini and served the table, sitting down to serve dinner, handing out plates and setting a container of parmesan cheese delicately on the table. 

“Lovely what you did with the place, it’s wonderful.” Alicia said, eyes bright as she took in the bunker - she had truly never seen anything like it, a safe haven for hunters; it was a dream. She glanced around the room, her gaze hovered on Jack who happily pointed over to Dean who had truly taken ‘nesting’ to a whole new level and had done all the work to make this their home, not just ‘the bunker’. Mary smiled at her, turning to her plate of pasta and gently sprinkling parmesan cheese over the top.

“So?”  Dean said, looking at Max, whose eyes were on the many weapons that had been brought into the front room for this dinner. Dean hadn’t forgotten what had happened the last time he had seen the Banes’, no chances were being taken here. Max just began stuttering ‘ums’ and ‘uhs’ - he got the message of course,  _ don’t do anything stupid, don’t let Alicia do anything stupid,  _ “you like them.” Dean stated, a wolfish grin crossing his face. 

“I just hope this isn’t another of your dreary suicide attempts” Cas mumbled to himself mostly, Dean was aware of how strong a sibling bond could stretch - what Cas didn’t need was Max trying to kill the Winchesters because they tried to interrupt his relationship with his dead twig person sister. Witches were not something they needed to mess with. Dean scowled at him, quietly praying - ‘No mental health talk at the table Cas!’. Castiel’s eyes briefly rolled back into his head, when his gaze returned to normal he just shrugged. Mary looked horrified with the entire conversation, eyes wide with motherly annoyance, Cas spoke up,

“You know what they say about people that commit suicide - in the afterlife they become civil servants, this is not true and was actually a myth perpetuated by-” Cas was interrupted by group laughing, 

“Lighten up, Cas.” Dean nudged him lightly, “Didn’t realize you were into the latest angelic gossip.” Castiel scowled,

“Well of course he had to be at one point, any stint of time with Gabriel the ‘living theatre’ of the heavens - he would have to be one of the leading angel gossips to make it out alive.” Sam grinned, he missed Gabe

“Living theatre huh, is that what they’re calling your kind these days?” Max asked snidely, looking directly at Castiel and Jack, Mary glared - was it possible to be angel racist? She supposed it was. Regardless of bloodline those were her boys he was insulting.

“Don’t mind him Cas, he’s still upset because somebody dropped a house on his sister.” Dean grinned, how a grin could be both wolfish and innocent at the same time Cas did not know, what he did know was that he enjoyed it, maybe a little more than he should  at a family dinner. Jack started laughing awkwardly, looking to Sam for help. Mary just seemed lost. 

“Well, this looks really good.” Sam said, pulling his cloth napkin up and tucking it into his shirt while desperately attempting to change the subject, he was salivating staring at the dish Dean cooked up, Dean beamed at the comment. The room feel to silence until Jack dared to break it -

“I saw Gabriel.” Jack piped up innocently, Dean started laughing awkwardly trying to ignore the pained look on Sam’s face, Mary just looked at Sam apologetically, reaching for his hand.

“It’s a little private joke Jack and I share, not, not real” Dean tried to brush off the kid’s outburst - seriously does he not realize what he’s doing to Sam?

“It’s not a joke.” He said fiercely, 

“Yes it is, just today he tried to convince me that he’s living upstairs in the attic - we don’t have a friggin’ attic! Kids! You know I love them!” he continued awkwardly laughing trying to make the situation go away, Jack looked down - hurt at being dismissed so quickly, Mary gave an apologetic smile his way, the rest of the group smiling with Dean. 

“Gabriel?” Cas said quietly, a squint taking over his face

“Apparently he put designer sheets on the bed that doesn’t exist.” Dean said with a shrug, Sam was done with this, this entire conversation hurt. 

“I-I’d like to propose a toast, to our intrepid friends who braved the Kansas expressway and two dozen vamps to be with us here this evening, may your hunts be deadly to all the proper parties.” Sam said, raising a glass, clinking it against Jack’s. The group raised their glasses as well. 

“Now Jack, favor us about Gabriel.” Cas said quietly, the stare never left his face,

“No.” Dean said sternly, “I am sick of that subject,” he looked to Sam who still looked hurt,

“Oh Dean lighten up.” Max said, Alicia nodded, backing him up. Twig people these days..

“I would rather talk about,” Dean paused, glancing around the table before - “ _ Daaaaayo”  _  Dean began to sing, his arms rose, fingers splayed almost framing his face, a look of shock taking hold of his clean shaven features,  _ “Daaaaaayo, daylight come and me wan go home”  _

“That’s cute, Dean.” Max grumbled, not amused.

_ “Day” _ Dean grabbed for his throat in shock,  _ “me say day, me say day, me say day, me say day, me say daaaayoooo”  _ his head rocked from side to side, chin jutting effortlessly left and right, hands jumping into the dance, his face a look of shock. Mary laughed awkwardly, unsure what her son was doing  _ “daylight come and me wan gooohome” _ Dean’s head dropped down, bowing towards the table almost as if in prayer.

“Cas, are you doing this?” Sam asked, confused, Dean’s gaze resumed meeting with Sam’s, shock, confusion, horror and joy gracing his features, 

_“Work all”_ Dean and Sam sat up from their seats, the shock now mirrored on Sam’s face, arms bent downwards turning their bodies into confused  Ws “ _night and a”_ with each new syllable the appendages bounced up, _“drink a ruma!”_ Dean winked at Castiel, flitting his ass out like a little Yandere girl. Meanwhile Alicia, Max, Mary, Jack and Castiel lackadasically began scrubbing at their faces with their napkins in four four time, as Dean continued singing _“daylight come and me wan go home”._ They began throwing their napkins into the air, whipping them side to side as Dean started the next verse, “ _Stack banana till the mornin' come-a!”_ Sam and Dean bowed left, twisting to their sides in perfect mirror, _“Daylight come and me wan go home”_ they straightened out back into the W pose, back down to the right and back up to the W. Dean was getting dizzy. _“Come Mr. Tally Man, tally me banana”_ Castiel stood, grabbing a nearby book, twirling in a circle before pulling it delicately to his hip as he began beating on it in time as if it were a drum, at first looking very into the moment - before the look of concern took over, he still liked it though. _“Daylight come and me wan go home”_ Dean’s arms flew above his head and his hips began to pivot, little circular thrusts taking over _“Come Mr. Tally man tally me banana”_ he and Sam mirrored one another as they twirled and thrusted in place, the rest of the group performing vigorous jazz hands. 

_ “Daylight come and me wan go home”  _ Dean and Sam began lowering as Mary, Jack, Cas, Alicia and Max began rising from their seats, each thrusting their arms out one after the other almost as if they were swimming, “ _ Lift six foot, seven foot, eight foot bunch!”  _ The group shimmied in time, all rising to stand around the table  _ “daylight come and me wan go home”  _  they repeated the arm motion from the previous measure, as if stacking cans on a shelf, when they reached the top they threw themselves further into the table, grabbing the arms of whoever happened to be next to them. The circle of acquaintances swayed  back and forth jerkily in time,  _ “Daylight come and me wan go home”  _ Dean belted, the arms dropped and Dean began bobbing to his right, strutting back and forth  _ “day, me say daaaayo”  _  he looked like a fucking chicken. Sam’s left hand flew around his waist, his right raised over his head as he swayed back and forth, shaking his right hand gently back and forth, the rest of the group echoing his movements, except for Dean who just continued his little chicken head bob.

_ “Daylight come and me wan go home”   _  Their arms came forward, the group hunched over and began moving clockwise around the table, arms swinging and bouncing in time.   _ “Day, me say day, me say day, me say day, me say day, me say day -” _

_ “Daylight come and me wan go home” _ their left arms wrapped their stomachs, their right flew up and did jazz hand as they shimmied counterclockwise back to their original seats.  _ “A beautiful bunch of ripe banana!” _ All arms flew above their heads, every man, woman, angel and twig person did the motion as their hips thrust and circled they turned in place. The circle completed a full 180, they all bowed to their seats, asses in the air facing the table, they shook side to side in time  _ “daylight come and me wan go home”  _ they got up, jerking back into a forward facing position,  _ “Hide the deadly black tarant’la!”  _ Sam flew back, his spine arched and his arms up, fingers splayed as if he were the deadly spider,  _ “daylight come and me wan go home”  _ the group sat back down, scooting back in to the table,  _ “lift six foot”  _  hands came barreling out of their bowls of shrimp pasta, the noodles and shrimp combining into something deliciously terrifying  _ “seven foot”  _ the creepy dinner creatures grabbed hold of the face of whoever happened to be in front of them,  _ “eight foot”  _ the linguini monster pulled them into the bowls, their bodies careening towards the table,  _ “bunch!”  _ the monsters threw the group back, their bodies and chairs clattering to the floor. Dazed but finally freed from their musical prison the group got to their feet, mouths dropping open as they did,

“Beetlejuice,” a step could be heard in the hall, “Beetlejuice” the voice came closer,, “Beetlejuice.” Gabriel smiled arms held proudly at his side, winking at Sam as he walked into the hall and onto the threshold.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the final end to my first (probably only ever) Sabriel fic.
> 
> Thank you again for bidding on me, your donation to Random Acts was appreciated!
> 
> Another auction will come in time, think about bidding! If not on me, on one of the other lovely creators.
> 
> Thank you for your time, your kuds (i'm assuming I get kudos, I guess that's a smidge presumptuous)
> 
> Anyways, thank you again, here is the link for the auction Tumblr if you want to participate in the future,
> 
> Love, Alex
> 
> https://www.juliahouston.com/fic-facers/


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